Shay:
I sat on the counter, cradling my coffee mug between my hands, watching Saint move around the kitchen. The rich smell of pancakes, eggs, and bacon filled the air, making my stomach growl. But honestly, my attention wasn’t entirely on the food.
Saint was shirtless, his back muscles rippling as he moved, and the low-slung grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips had my heart racing. I couldn’t help but admire the tattoos that covered his arms and chest, each one telling a story I wanted to know more about. The ink, the way it stretched over his skin, just added to how incredibly f*****g sexy he was. His hair was untamed, the dirty blonde strands falling over his forehead in that effortless, “I don’t give a damn” way that suited him so perfectly. It was messy, wild, just like
